


The River Drell

by westernsunset



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 02:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernsunset/pseuds/westernsunset
Summary: This is a series of one offs inspired by Goldenlake prompts and songs from Bruce Springsteen’s album The River





	1. Walking Tough But Walking Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George didn't think marriage would change his relationship with Alanna, but he has a lot to learn.
> 
> —
> 
> written for Goldenlake prompt “Ties That Bind” and title taken from Bruce Springsteen song of the same name

George had been naive. He knew that now. He’d heard from so many people how marriage changes a relationship. Slice loved to regale people with the tale of how he’d fallen in love with a beautiful girl, only to marry her and watch her turn into her mother overnight. To hear him tell it, that was why he left Tusaine, why he used a fake name, why he never took the same girl twice. George had laughed then, and shook his head at his friend’s folly. Trust Slice to over-exaggerate, pick at small faults, eventually run away in fear.

He had truly thought that marriage meant nothing. That he and Alanna would make their union legal, find a nice house, go about the work they loved and nothing would change. They’d always had a love like friends, trusting each other deeply, never afraid to challenge each other or speak their mind. Why would a simple legal ceremony change that?

And yet. The shifts started gradually. One morning George woke up and was hit with the full realization that he’d be with Alanna forever. As long as he lived. Most of him was still happy with that thought, but some of him felt caged, desperate to get out. Small things that he didn’t even notice before started to appear. Alanna never shut doors when she left a room. She was shockingly loud when she got up in the middle of the night. When he made her laugh while they were eating, he’d be hit with a shower of crumbs more often than not. What if every year brought more habits he’d hate and have to just live with.

Worse still, Alanna started to pick at him. She was forever nagging him about leaving papers around. He’d be greeted in the morning with complaints that he’d hogged the blankets in the night. She was vocal about her dislike for his clothes.

One day, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh George, really?” she asked, looking up from a letter when he came to the dining room. “Lord Imrah is coming for dinner and you can’t be bothered to change?”

George exploded. “CHANGE? Of course my sweet,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t I just change into someone else and then you can live with him and stop nagging all the time?”

Alanna looked taken aback. “What are you talking about?” There was a bite in her voice.

George was seeing red, his heart pounding. “I’m talking about your constant complaints! The papers, my table manners, I talk too loud, I hog the covers, it’s like you’ll never be happy! And it’s not like I say anything about your faults because believe me, I could!”

“Oh, my faults?! Well please, enlighten me George, what are my faults because you’ve Gods blest never mentioned them before!”

 

“Well I didn’t think they’d be so cursed annoying! I didn’t think they’d ruin our marriage.”

At this, Alanna’s expression changed. Her face looked crushed, and she said quieter, “you think our marriage is ruined?”

George was puzzled. “Isn’t that what’s happening?”

“I didn’t think so,” she said. “I thought we were just having a fight.”

“We’re not supposed to fight. We never fought before,” said George, sitting heavily.

Enlightenment dawned on Alanna’s face. “Of course we didn’t,” she said, going to stand by her husband. “We didn’t have to share close quarters before. We didn’t see all the little things people do that drive another person crazy. That’s part of being marriage. We find the things we hate, and decide to stay together in spite of them.”

“I tell you when things bother me because I don’t want resentment to build up. I hate finding all your letters and notes around. But not enough to stop loving you. I thought if I brought it up we could find a compromise. Just like you can bring up the things I do that bother you, so we can work together to make a life we both can be happy with,” she said.

George sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry for blowing up.”

Alanna laughed. “It’s probably because you’ve holding back all your complaints for months! It’s healthier to get them out in the open. Like right now. I don’t want you to wear that ratty tunic to dinner with our neighbor.”

George smiled. “At your wish, I will change. But if you feel the urge to laugh at dinner, please cover your mouth or you’ll shower us all in crumbs. It’s fair disgusting.”

“See! I didn’t even realize I did that! I’m thankful you told me. Now change,” said Alanna.

Holding up his hands in surrender, George went to leave. At the open doorway, he turned. “I love you Alanna.”

“I love you too George.”

“Stop leaving doors open when you leave the room.”


	2. This Package Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon wants to court Thayet, but Buri keeps showing up uninvited.
> 
> —
> 
> written for Goldenlake prompt “You’re More Trouble Than You’re Worth” and based off the Bruce Springsteen song “Sherry Darling.”

Jon didn’t notice it at first. He was so enraptured by Thayet, her beauty, her intelligence, her kindness, her resilience, that he was just happy to be near her. No matter how many people were around, he felt like it was only the two of them in the room. 

It was only as their courtship deepened that Jon realized that it was never just him and Thayet. If he did plan to see Thayet alone, it seemed the Buri always showed up. When the two first arrived in Tortall, Jon assumed that Thayet and Buri spent so much time together because they were strangers in a new place. They helped each other navigate the new customs and kept each other company when they didn’t know anyone else.

But it had been months. Thayet knew other people now. More importantly, Thayet knew Jon. She enjoyed spending time with him. She shouldn’t need a friend as a buffer for their interactions. But every time Jon saw Thayet, he saw Buri too. And it was starting to test his nerves. 

“It’s finally starting to warm up,” said Jon one evening when he and Thayet (and Buri) were playing chess in his study. “I’d love to show you the woods in the South of the castle, if you’re interested.”

“Of course,” said Thayet, expertly putting him back in check.

“I can come to your rooms and escort you,” said Jon, trying to find a way for Buri not to follow them.

“Oh, please don’t go to all the trouble. I’ll meet you at the south entrance.”

“And I was hoping it could be just the two of us,” Jon said, trying not to cast a meaningful glance at Buri.

“That sounds wonderful,” Thayet replied with a warm smile.

For awhile the next day, it was just the two of them on the walk. They walked in the patchy sun that filtered through the trees, Jon pointing out some of the birds that took up residence in the royal forest. He was handing a cluster of lilacs to Thayet when he heard Buri’s unmistakable voice.

“Thayet? Fancy stumbling into each other!”

“Buri! Look at these beautiful flowers, can you believe the color?”

It took everything Jon had not to let out a frustrated scream. He’d tried to be polite, but clearly Buri hadn’t picked up on his hints. It’s not that he wanted to be rude but he was at his wit’s end with Buri and her constant presence.

“Since you’re here, would you like to walk with us?” Thayet asked.

“NO!” Jon finally said. Both women looked at him in surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout but, Buri! Anytime I want any time with Thayet, you’re here! On our solitary walks! In private meals! Late at night! I can’t have a moment’s peace with just me and Thayet. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to sabotage our relationship. And Buri, you know I care for you, but you’re more trouble than you’re worth!”

Buri turned to him with a cold stare. “You’re frustrated and you clearly didn’t think before you spoke, so I’ll forgive that last hurtful statement.”

Jon opened his mouth to apologize, but Buri cut him off. “I’d hoped you’d realized by now Jon that I’m going to be in Thayet’s life no matter what. I was here long before you, and Goddess willing, I’ll be here long after you.”

“Buri!” Thayet hissed at her friend’s imploite statement.

“My family was protecting Thayet’s family before she was born. This is more than just a friendship, though Thayet is my dearest friend. But it’s deeper than that. You may love Thayet, but you don’t have a duty to her, unless you choose to. I love her like she was my own blood and I have a duty to her that I wouldn’t abandon if I wanted to. And if you want to be with Thayet, you’ll have to realize my involvement in her life will not change, and it won’t just be limited to the occasional run-in when you think you’re on a private walk.”

Jon looked to the two women. Buri’s eyes had a fierce anger, and Thayet was blushing a little. “Thayet?” Jon asked.

“I can’t disagree with her,” said Thayet. “As much as Buri feels she owes her duty to me, I know that she and her family are one of the only reasons I’m alive today. We’re going to be a pair no matter what happens.”

“Is that something you can live with?” Buri asked coldly.

Jon took a deep breath. He did regret speaking to Buri in anger. He liked her company, and he knew that anyone who loved Thayet as much as he did (a different, but no less real, type of love) had to be a good person.

“I’m sorry for how I spoke Buri. It was wrong, and I hope my actions will prove that I don’t consider you trouble. I’m glad to have you in Thayet’s life, and in mine, and I hope you’ll be in our life together for many years.”

Thayet looked satisfied, and some of the anger drained out of Buri’s face as her eyes softened.

“That being said,” Jon continued. “Do you think sometimes you could just let me and Thayet have an afternoon alone? You do tend to pop up a lot.”

“It’s a small palace.”

“It really isn’t,” Jon said. Thayet laughed, and even Buri smiled. 

“You do tend to meddle, Buri,” Thayet said.

“Fine, fine! If I happen to see the two of you while I’m going about my own business in your puny castle, I’ll keep to myself. Unless you’re endangering Thayet. Or hurting her. Or annoying her.”

“I promise you I’ll never endanger or hurt Thayet. I guess I can’t promise I’ll never annoy her.”

“You’re annoying me right now,” said Thayet. “You didn’t warn me how rugged this path was. Had I known there were so many thorns, I would’ve worn boots instead of these,” she said, holding up a ragged slipper. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sit and rest my feet. But I would like to continue our walk,” she said to Jon as she walked a little way down the path to a flat stone.

“I can take a hint,” Buri said, before Jon had another chance to apologize. “Enjoy your walk. And--” here she lowered her voice to a whisper, “I was following you. And I may leave you alone with her but I’ll always be watching you.”

“So you were always popping up on purpose?” Jon asked, though he wasn’t very surprised.

“Of course.”

“I’ll tell Thayet you were meddling.”

“And I’ll deny it. Who do you think she’ll believe? And remember, I’ve known her since she was born.”

Jon held up his hands in defeat. “All right, all right. Watch all you like, but maybe leave us alone a little more! You may play tough, but I know you like me and I know you like us together.”

“I’ll neither confirm nor deny that,” Buri said, but she smiled. “I’ll leave you to your walk.”

Jon turned back to Thayet and offered his arm like any gentleman would, knowing Buri was lovingly scrutinizing his every move.


	3. Wasted Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daine has a hard time adjusting to human form after weeks as a bird.
> 
> —
> 
> written for Fief Goldenlake prompt “Cage” and based on the Bruce Springsteen song “Jackson Cage.”

The night was hot, and the window she’d left open did very little to stir the heavy air. Next to her, Numair slept heavily, oblivious to her tossing and turning. She couldn’t find a space to lie comfortably. The bed was too small. The whole room was too small. Sweat clung to her skin and she shoved herself up to stand by the window.

It had never affected her like this before. Daine did a lot of spying for the King, using falcon or eagle form to scope out fiefs that were murmuring about rebellion, or changing herself into a sparrow and flitting about the northern border. She loved being able to provide a service to the realm where she made her home, and usually she came back from her spying trips exactly as she left them.

Not this time. It had been almost a week since Daine had a good night’s sleep. Everywhere she turned, she felt like she was trapped. The walls were too close, the air felt frozen, and everything felt like it was bearing down on her. She tried to take deep breaths, but she felt like her lungs were too small. A cold sweat broke out over her body and all she could think was “get out get out get out.” All she could think to do was pace the room, stalking between walls like a bird stuck on a perch.

“Daine?” Numair’s voice was soft with sleep. “Is everything ok?”

How could she respond to that? Nothing was ok. If she had to live in a room like this forever, she didn’t think she’d ever be ok again.

“Come back to bed,” he said, after a moment of silence.

“I can’t!” Daine’s protest sounded a little louder than she meant it to. “I feel trapped in here, it’s making me sick! I don’t think I can live like this!”

That got Numair’s attention. “Why don’t we go outside for awhile?”

Daine just nodded, and the two went outside, not bothering to put on shoes or change their clothes. The night was hot and the breeze was sluggish, but Daine felt marginally better outside. At least she had some space to breath. Numair seemed content to follow her, so Daine walked through the well tended gardens and out to the big hill above the practice yards. She was halfway down it by the time she felt ready to sit again.

“Feel better?”

“Somewhat,” she answered. “I still feel like I need to go somewhere but I don’t know where.”

Numair was quiet, thinking. “How long were you in bird shape this last trip?”

“Maybe two weeks?”

“And before that?”

“Three weeks.”

“So that’s five weeks with barely any time in between. No wonder your restless. Your body became acclimated to a certain shape, a certain lifestyle, and it’s hard to adjust back.”

“I thought I couldn’t lose my humanity anymore? I thought I put that behind me?” Daine was frustrated. Her one-time teacher should have warned her about the consequences of long-term animal form.

“I don’t think it’s that you’re losing your humanity,” Numair said, oblivious to the bite in Daine’s voice. “It’s more like...well think about how you felt when you first came to Tortall. Some things were uncomfortable or strange. Maybe it’s something like that.”

“Maybe?”

“Your powers are so unique, it’s hard to know for sure. I’d think of it less like you lost your humanity and more like you are having trouble adjusting to a place you haven’t been in awhile. I’m guessing it will take you some time to feel like your old self.”

“And what do you propose I do until then, O Wise One?” Daine joked, but she was a little relieved to hear Numair say what she was feeling probably wasn’t permanent.

“Why not sleep outside? You say you were feeling closed in, so take that out of the equation. Focus on getting a good night’s sleep. I think once that’s accomplished, you’ll feel more like your old self.”

“Old?!” Daine said, as they both got up, him to head back to the castle, her to the Rider’s barracks where she kept a spare bedroll.

Numair smiled. “Your right. Not your old self. Your wonderful, intelligent, beautiful self, who at this moment is acting a little...bird brained.”

“Numair that was horrible.”

“Too mean?”

“No, just cheesy.”

He laughed and gave her a hug. “I love you no matter what, my sweet. But it’s very late, and I don’t need to sleep outside. So I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Daine gave him a hug and the two parted ways. Just as Numair was almost out of earshot, he said, “I’ll have the cooks make your breakfast all seeds and worms, so you feel more at home.”


	4. Searching Until I Find

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal falls in and out of love too quickly for anyone (including his mother) to keep up.
> 
> \--
> 
> written for Goldenlake Prompt "Kissing Frogs" and title from the Bruce Springsteen song "Two Hearts"

“Young Nealan has the Gift of a Healer, but the soul of a poet,” his aunt laughed one Midwinter, when Neal was only five. He’d just been describing the bouquet of evergreen boughs he’d tied together with a bright red ribbon. He planned to give it to Tallie, the seven year old daughter of a nearby Baron who was coming for tomorrow’s feast. His hope was that Tallie would love the gift so much, she’d agree when Neal asked her to dance. He’d been practicing his steps for weeks in anticipation.

But his aunt’s teasing had shocked him. She’d laughed at his gift, and maybe Tallie would too. Without another word, Neal ran from the table and didn’t even make it to his room before he started to cry. He threw himself on the bed (dramatically) and wept like his five-year-old heart was broken beyond repair.

A soft knock at the door, and his mother came in, sitting down at the edge of his bed.

“Oh Neal,” she said rubbing his back. “You know Aunt Marde didn’t mean any harm. I think she really liked the idea of your bouquet.”

“What if--Tallie--laughs at me?” Neal said between sobs.

Wilina sighed inwardly. She didn’t always know what to make of her sensitive youngest son. She was an intensely practical woman, rarely ceding to sentiment or extravagance. Her wedding to Baird was a simple ceremony, both preferring to save coin for their future together. Her home was comfortable but sparse, with her sister always teasing her about the empty walls and plain furniture. But Wilina had never understood the need for flowers that died several days after they were picked, wall hangings that only served to please the eye, or heartfelt speeches of affection. Baird showed his love for her every day, through his actions, not through what she saw as meaningless gestures or proclamations.

Her other children had inherited Wilina’s practical streak. But from the time he could talk, Neal set himself apart. He was always attracted to art, flowers, poetry, all the fleeting things Wilina saw no use for. And he was the most romantic five year old Wilina had ever encountered, constantly falling in love with whatever girl happened to cross his path. Wilina did not understand him at all.

She still loved him though, and she hated to see him so upset. But the fact of the matter is, had a five year old presented her a winter bouquet when she was seven, she would have laughed at him. She didn’t want Neal to be hurt even more, particularly since Tallie didn’t seem like the flowers and poems type. Though she was only seven. It was hard to tell.

“It’s always nice to give a friend a gift,” Wilina said, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe you can just give them to her for Midwinter Luck?”

“But I don’t want to give them to her as a friend! I love her!”

“I know sweetheart, and I’m sure she’ll love them. But she may not...confess her love in return. Sometimes that happens,” Wilina said, trying not to be too blunt.

Neal sniffed, calmer now. “Well I guess I have to try.”

All Wilina wanted to do was shout “No! You don’t have to try! You can just keep the flowers!” but she just hugged her son and assured him that she was behind him no matter what.

Of course, Tallie took the bouquet politely when Neal gave it to her with a proclamation of love, though she did not return his affections. Miraculously, Neal didn’t cry and wished her Midwinter luck. Later that night, as Wilina tucked him in, he said “Mama, I’m glad I told her, even though she didn’t love me back. I would have been sadder if I didn’t tell her at all.”

Wilina kissed him goodnight and blew out his candles, but she left shaking her head, and wondering if she would ever understand her youngest son.

\---

When Neal announced his intention to pursue knighthood, ten years later, Wilina was proud but nervous. Neal was so different from the sons she had lost, may the Black God bless them. Her other boys had been resilient, with an inner strength and innate practicality. Neal was...dreamy. Sensitive. Despite her husband’s confidence, Wilina didn’t know if the palace would be the right place for him.

And secretly, she was worried it would change her son into someone she wouldn’t recognize. Over the years, she’d grown to enjoy Neal’s all-consuming love affairs, his poems, his flowers, how he mooned over girls. She still didn’t understand how Neal was able to fall in and out of love so quickly, but instead of worrying her, it amused her. In a kind way. And she could tell Neal would sometimes make a story even more dramatic in telling it to her, to coax a smile out of his sometimes-too-stern mother. She hoped beyond hope the palace wouldn’t change the soul of her sweet young son.

With his first letter home, Wilina’s worries were put to rest. Addressed to her, the letter contained half a page of information about training and two and half pages about Daine, one of Neal’s teachers in wild magic. Several months later, it was Uline of Hanlof, one of Queen Thayet’s ladies in waiting. Then the Queen herself. When it came to unrequited crushes, Neal chose only the best.

Then, right before the Progress, Wilina received a different type of letter from her son.

_Mother,_

__

__

_Forget every girl I’ve ever told you about, because I just met the girl I’m going to marry._

Most of Neal’s letters started like this.

_I know, I’ve said this before. But all those other girls, that wasn’t love. Not like how I feel now._  
  
This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Neal’s letters either, but he did sound more serious than Wilina remembered.

_Really. It’s like everything was in black and white before and now I’m seeing colors for the first time. It’s like I was carrying something and didn’t realize how freely I could move until it was lifted off. I feel like a completely different person now. You watch, this isn’t Fickle Neal this time. This is the real thing._

__

__

_I can’t wait for you to meet Yuki._


	5. Too Much of the Same Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alanna reflects on the men she is related to, their similarities and their many differences.
> 
> —
> 
> written for FiefGoldenlake prompt “Firelight” and title taken from Bruce Springsteen song Independence Day

Alanna peeked around the corner into her father’s study. As usual, he was hunched over an old document, lips moving silently as he translated. He leaned close to the stained pages, using a magnifying glass to read in the dying light of the fire. She hoped he would sense her presence and invite her in, pull her into his lap and give her a hug before she went to bed. But past experiences with her father told her that once he became engrossed in his work, all the horses in Tortall couldn’t drag him out of it.

Still, she wanted tonight to be different. Tomorrow, she would leave for the palace to start training for her knighthood. Training, which was dangerous in the best of circumstances, would be far riskier for her since she was concealing her gender. She tried not to think about what could happen if she was found out, but in lonelier moments, like right now, it was at the forefront of her mind. She would’ve liked to have a loving memory of her father before she left, potentially for the last time.

It wasn’t that Alanna had negative memories of her father, it was more that she had no memories at all. From the time she was young, Coram and Maude had taken charge of every aspect of her upbringing, her father’s presence relegated to an unacknowledged fog in the home, something she was always aware of but something that didn’t actually affect her life. To say he had hurt her or made her life worse was to give him too much credit. Often, she wondered if he even realized his two children still shared a home with him.

Her father scratched his nose and shook back his sleeves, and Alanna startled. She’d seen Thom do that same gesture so many times while the two of them were studying their letters, or working with Maude. Thom always huffed a little when he did it, as if he hated to be bothered by his physical body for even a second. He hated to be distracted from the academic task at hand.

Alanna backed away from the door quickly and silently. Seeing her Thom’s mannerisms on her father (or her father’s mannerisms on Thom?) scared her. Suddenly she flashed to a life where her twin was there, but not present. Where he retreated so deeply into himself he forgot about the people who needed him.

She crept to bed quietly, hoping not to wake Thom who slept in the bed on the other side of the room. Her heart worried about Thom, who could be so studious, who could forget himself in his books. What would happen to him when he had children? Would they grow up with the same cold detachment the two of them had? Would Thom make an effort to be better than their father? Or would whatever perfectionist academic streak their father had claim Thom too?

She shook off that thought. Her father didn’t love anything but his books. Thom, no matter what else, loved her. Thom loved her when it was easy and when it was hard. Her father had loved her mother, probably even loved her and Thom, until her mother died. It was as if he couldn’t take the horror of losing something he loved, so he decided not to love anything he could lose. But Thom was capable of love in all its beauty and tragedy. Or at least she hoped he was. She didn’t think she could stand to lose a brother as well as a father.


	6. Play Your Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jon forces his squire to talk to eligible young ladies at banquets, Alanna meets an unlikely ally.
> 
> \--
> 
> written for Goldenlake prompt "Avoid" and based off the Bruce Springsteen song "Hungry Heart."

Alanna bobbed and wove through the crowd, hoping not to catch Jon’s eye. Lately, her knight master had become very interested in pushing her to dance with the many beautiful young ladies who came to court over the Midwinter holidays. She didn’t know if he did it because he thought it was funny to take her so far out of her comfort zone, to test her deception, or because (Goddess forbid) he found it exciting to imagine her and one of the young women together. But she wasn’t able to refuse him in public, and he wasn’t open to hearing her objections in private, so all she could do was avoid him.

Looking hurriedly over her shoulder, she bumped directly into Myles, who was already several glasses of wine in.

“My my, Alan,” Myles said, a slight slur in his voice. “What are we running from tonight?”

“Sorry sir,” Alanna said, satisfied seeing Jon engaged with one of the many pretty ladies at the ball that night. “Just ah—on an errand.”

“An errand, of course. For what exactly?”

Alanna shot Myles a look. He was easygoing enough that she could get away with a small amount of impertinence, but she knew she couldn’t share her sticky situation with Jon without revealing more than she wanted to. Not to mention it would be improper to complain about her knight master in public.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Myles said with a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Prince Jonathan I saw you.”

Alanna tried to seem angry, but she certainly could see the absurdity in her situation. She gave Myles a half-smile and ducked around him when she saw Jon searching the ballroom.

Too late. He’d spotted her, and the crowd parted easily for him to reach her quickly. “Squire, there are young ladies enquiring after you. You should know it’s rude to keep them waiting.” His eyes had some mirth in them, but she detected a steely edge to his voice.

“My apologies Sire,” she said through gritted teeth. She lowered her voice to say, “as we discussed previously, my shyness prevents me from being an entertaining party guest.”

“Nonsense!” Jon grabbed her by the arm and steered her toward a clump of young women. “Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”

“Lady Adelina, may I present Alan of Trebond, my squire,” Jon said, to a young woman a head taller than Alanna. She held out her hand, which Alanna dutifully kissed. “And Lady Idonea,” Jon said, his hand already on the arm of a tall, ruddy, brunette who looked down her fine nose at Alanna.

“Aren’t you a treat,” Lady Idonea said with a fake smile, turning back to Jon and resuming their conversation.

And now Alanna saw why she was brought over. Jon wanted to talk to Lady Idonea undisturbed, and he wanted Alanna to entertain Lady Adelina. The anger built up in Alanna’s chest, and she had to remind herself that she couldn’t expect Jon not to talk to eligible ladies. As the heir to the throne, he had to secure a wife at some point. Whatever her and Jon had was completely secret, they couldn’t give a hint of it in public without risking the exposure of her gender (or an entirely different set of problematic rumors).

Still, a part of her wished that Jon would take her by the hand, dance with her, make it clear to everyone that he was interested in her.

“Idonea always does this,” Lady Adelina said with a huff, breaking Alanna’s reverie. “Pawning me off on her suitor’s friends.” She looked over at Alanna. “No offense.”

“None taken. I guess.”

“I mean, you clearly don’t want to be talking to me either,” Lady Adelina said. “I saw you hiding from His Majesty earlier.”

Alanna felt herself blush. “Was it that obvious?”

“Probably not,” Adelina said. “I try to be observant.”

Alanna didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything. Her eyes kept going over to Jon, who was leaning in close to talk to Idonea.

“You don’t have to sit here with me,” Adelina said, more kindly. “I _have_ to wait on the wall for someone to come talk, but you can go find any pretty lady you want.”

“I think you’re pretty,” the words were out of Alanna’s mouth before she thought much about them, and she blushed again. She wished there was a better way to make Adelina realize that she wasn’t unhappy to be talking to her, she was unhappy pretending to be something she wasn’t. She was unhappy because she wished Jon would stop forcing her to pretend to be interested in other women, putting her into awkward situations like this.

“Well thank you,” Adelina said. “But you’re a little young for me, and I think we both know that. Besides…Squire Alan, can you keep a secret?”

Alanna almost laughed aloud. She could probably keep a secret better than anyone in the palace. “Yes, I’m good with secrets.”

“Good, because this is a big secret. I don’t know how much practice you have with those.”

“You’d be surprised,” Alanna said under her breath.

If Adelina noticed her comment, she didn’t say anything. “The truth is, I’m spoken for. I just come to these things to keep up appearances while my husband-to-be saves up enough for a house somewhere.”

A house? Adelina couldn’t be talking about a noble. “And your future husband is…?”

“You may know him actually, his name is Gilbert.”

“Gilbert? Gilbert the holster? That Gilbert?”

“That’s the one.”

Alanna was a little stunned. That was a pretty big secret, certainly bigger than what she was expecting. A noble lady marrying a holster would certainly cause a stir. “Oh,” was all she could think to say.

“I know, scandalous. But what can I say, when you’re in love, it doesn’t matter as much what people think. It only matters what the person you love thinks of you.”

“Does Gilbert…” the question tripped on the end of Alanna’s tongue but she made herself ask it. “Does Gilbert ever get jealous of you, dancing and talking with different people at these banquets?”

“I think he used to. He was worried I was only fooling around with him, that I wasn’t actually serious, so when I had to attend these things, he thought I would run off with one of the boys I met here. But I kept coming around, we kept spending time together, and eventually he realized that the social things I have to do to still be seen as a proper lady have nothing to do with what I may feel about him. And he got used to it.”

Alanna rubbed her nose, deep in thought. She didn’t know if she would get used to Jon dancing with other ladies, ignoring her, avoiding her, treating her like his squire and nothing more. She knew it was necessary, but she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to look at it the way Gilbert looked at Adelina’s possible suitors.

“Something on your mind Squire Alan?” Adelina said.

“Yes,” Alanna said, figuring Adelina would understand at least part of what she was going through. “But nothing I can discuss.”

Adelina just nodded. “Fair enough. You’re an easy conversation partner. I hope the next time you’re avoiding your knight master you’ll come find me. We can keep each other company while we avoid everyone else at these things.”

“I’d like that my lady.”

“Please, if we’re to defraud the masses, you must call me Addy. It’s what all my friend’s call me.”

“Very well, Addy,” Alanna responded, hoping someday she’d have the chance to tell Addy her real name too.


	7. The Way I Want to Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is seeking something different from the freedom the Dancing Dove provides.
> 
> \--
> 
> written for Fief Goldenlake prompt "Freedom" and title and inspiration taken from the song "Out in the Street"

“We made it!” Gary whooped. “Just when we thought we’d never see another sunny day, never see a time without classwork, here we are! We shall struggle no more! We shall be the free men we were destined to be!”

“So you’re not at all excited for summer, are you Gary?” Jon said as the squires (plus Alan) filed out into the bright sunlight.

“Excited? Jon, I am amazed. To have made it through that year? It’s a miracle,” Gary said, turning his face to the sun. Jon laughed. For all his teasing, he was happy to be done with classwork too.

“Dancing Dove? Shall we go to the Dancing Dove?” Gary said, looking around at the squires (plus Alan) with hope in his eyes.

Alex smiled tightly. “I don’t think I can. My knightmaster doesn’t stop over the summer.”

“It’s our first day of real freedom! Have Jon talk to him,” Raoul suggested, throwing an arm around Alex.

Alex shook it off. “Don’t talk to him Jon. I’m happy to serve, unlike some of you,” he said before he stalked off without a word.

“Someone’s been in a bad mood since his feet hit the floor this morning,” Jon said, raising his eyebrows.

Gary didn’t say anything, just watched Alex go. He knew Alex’s mood started to shift when he became Roger’s squired. He’d watched his friend become even more withdrawn, secretive, intense. But when he tried to bring it up, Alex had brushed him off, so Gary had dropped it. But that didn’t mean it didn’t worry him.

He shook his head slightly to clear it. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now, so he turned to the rest of his friends. “The rest of us? Dancing Dove?” Nods all around.

Gary knew he was intelligent. He’d had tutors praise him for it all his life, and his father was constantly giving him books and engaging him in discussions to make sure he understood the important parts of what he’d read. He knew he had more of an aptitude for book learning than other boys his age did.

What he suspected, but didn’t know, was that he had a wisdom boys his age didn’t possess. Well, maybe not a wisdom, but a perception that was beyond his years. Unlike Jon, who led from the gut, or Raoul who seemed to consider everyone a friend, no matter what, Gary took a measured view on people. He enjoyed puzzling over their differences, considering their motivations, always trying to see all sides of a person before making a determination on their character or looking at a situation from every possible angle. His friends sometimes made fun of him when he would bring up different ideas, or poke holes in their plans. He knew people didn’t like when someone pointed out their weaknesses or contradicted them, but he couldn’t always help himself.

That’s why he enjoyed the Dancing Dove. There, he didn’t seem paranoid, or like he was overthinking a situation. George and his Court appreciated Gary’s ability to think through a situation. They’d bring their plans to him, asking him spot problem areas, help them improve. In George, Gary found a kindred spirit, someone who was as interested in the specifics of people as he was, someone who saw all sides of a situation. 

He didn’t have to worry about overthinking things in the Dancing Dove. More likely, when he pointed out an alternative situation, someone would clap him on the back and agree, or better yet, challenge him. It was those discussions that taught Gary the most, and he liked that no one was afraid to disagree with him, that they had their own points that helped him rethink his beliefs and sometimes even change his mind. It was completely different from the palace, where he felt he was told how to think, and Gary relished every moment of it.

—

Raoul knew the talk. He knew what people thought of him, that he was the muscle to Jon’s little band, while Gary and Alex supplied the intelligence and the strategy. He knew that the teachers thought he was dumb, that even his friends considered him naive for being so friendly. 

He even understood why they thought that. When he’d first arrived at the palace, he’d struggled with the academics. Raoul hadn’t had private tutors like lots of the other boys. His father didn’t want him thinking he was better than the other boys his age at Goldenlake, and they’d all shared a tutor, and the work of maintaining the land. He didn’t realize how behind he was until he came to the palace. He’d caught up some, but the mathematics, the history, the etiquette, it just didn’t come naturally to him. More often than not, he relied on his charm to get teachers on his side, or convince his yearmates to help with his homework. 

On the practice courts, he excelled. All the struggles he had in class, his inability to see the connections or the next step, that all went away. If there was an intelligence to fighting, to swordsmanship, or riding, Raoul possessed it in spades.

But that’s what all of them were expected to have, and any skill Raoul may have had was overlooked, or chalked up to his size. No one at the palace was particularly impressed with him, and he knew lots of the instructors thought he was successful only because Jon had taken pity on him, taken him under his wing. And many people thought he was odd for being so friendly with the servants. It was all Raoul knew. He didn’t understand why he wouldn’t talk to anyone who lived in the palace. It’s what he had done at Goldenlake. But here, it was frowned upon. 

Not at the Dancing Dove. There, people knew him separately from Jon. His friends at the tavern delighted in challenging him to contests of strength, some of which he lost, many of which he won. For the first time since he’d come to the palace, he was impressive in his own right, not just for his height and strength, but for his personality, his friendly nature. Sure, many of the hardened thieves would sit him down, extol the virtues of a guarded personality, but they would talk to him. Everyone would talk to him. Everyone liked him, and down in the city, that wasn’t a bad thing. He wasn’t the weird one for making conversation with anyone he met, like he was in the palace. He didn’t have to monitor his behavior, fit into what was expected of a noble, or a friend of the prince, and he found himself coming to the tavern as much as possible, just for the freedom.

—

Alanna was relieved Alex wasn’t coming to the Dancing Dove. Clearly Gary and Jon and Raoul had told him about the tavern and about George, but Alanna was still reluctant to bring Alex into that part of her life. But she understood why the rest of her friends loved the Dancing Dove so much. Down there, they didn’t have to be the put together oldest sons of prominent nobles, or heirs to the throne. They didn’t have to young men trying to be knights, they could just be wealthy young men, making the kinds of mistakes all young men did.

Did she resent she wasn’t able to make those same mistakes? Was she jealous when she saw the boys flirting with whoever they wanted, letting the guard down, shedding the stress they felt in the palace? Of course. The boys looked at the end of classes as a time of freedom, but she had to keep working all the time, monitoring her walk, her voice, all the elements of her disguise, rarely being able to let her guard down.

Except with George. He’d known about her hidden gender for a year or so, and when the two of them would talk, she could be exactly herself. George let her do that, be whoever she was feeling in the moment. As much as she liked being at the tavern with everyone else, she found herself more and more seeking out George, being with him in private. Those were the times she could be herself, and the older she was, the more she wanted to be with people who understood her. All of her. And as of now, the only person who really knew her was George.

—

Jon didn’t understand how no one else saw it. Everything in the realm that was unequal. How differently people were treated. The injustice. He would try to bring it up with people, but most people didn’t understand what he was talking about, or they would agree but soon start talking about another topic. He didn’t know how all the wrongs in the world weren’t at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

Of course, he was young. Of course, he didn’t think about the kingdom all the time. But he wasn’t like his friends. He couldn’t take a day off from his duty, or forget what he would eventually become. Even when he was relaxing, he was thinking, taking things in, preparing for the day he would eventually rule.

It could be a lot of pressure, but not for the reasons people thought. He wasn’t overwhelmed by the responsibility, he was overwhelmed by all the changes he needed to make. His father said he was too idealistic, that he’d realize soon that things had to move slowly, that some of the changes Jon wanted to make weren’t going to be possible. But Jon knew his father was wrong. He didn’t say it, but he knew his father was wrong. 

George appreciated Jon’s predicament. George was another young man who had power over others, who could use his position to make meaningful changes, and he agreed with Jon’s plans for the kingdom. Talking to George made Jon feel less crazy. Not only did someone else see what was possible for the realm, but George would push him to see injustices where Jon hadn’t thought to look. Jon knew the Dancing Dove, and his friendship with George, would make him a better king, which was one of the reasons he kept coming down to the city.

—

The four friends, each lost in thought, walked out of the palace and into the city. If they’d talked to each other, they would have seen how much each of them loved the Dancing Dove, how stifled they all felt by the palace, how much they all needed the freedom that anonymity provided. But they were still young, still believing the lie that they were so odd, so out of place, that no one would understand who they truly were. So they didn’t say anything to each other, and instead caught their bits of freedom where they could, growing into the people they were always meant to be.


	8. Crush on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raoul's gets his first crush, but can't tell anyone about it.
> 
> \--
> 
> written for Fief Goldenlake prompt, First Crush and based on Bruce Springsteen's song Crush on You.

“Lady Annel of Hilborne is just…luminescent!” Gary said one evening as the pages were shoveling down dinner after the banquet. “Like no matter where she turns, you can see her perfectly in the candlelight.”

“Lady Annel? What happened to Carlotta?” Alex said good-naturedly. “I thought she was, if I remember correctly ‘the most beautiful woman to grace the banquet hall’?”

“Serviceable impression of me, thank you Alex,” Gary said. “And Carlotta is still the most beautiful, but Lady Annel is more than beautiful. She’s ethereal.”

“Gary no one knows what that means,” Jon said.

“It means she floats in as if from a cloud, she’s one with the air,” Gary said.

“I don’t think that’s actually what ethereal means,” quiet Francis responded.

“Well that’s basically what it means. And you’re one to talk! I saw you mooning over Oralie,” Gary nudged Francis with his arm.

“I was not!” Francis blushed.

“Francis loves Oralie!” Jon said in a sing-song. “Francis, she must be fifteen years older than you!”

“Twelve,” Francis muttered.

The boys howled with good-natured laughter, but Raoul’s heart was beating fast. He hated when the conversation turned to the girls everyone liked, which it seemed to be doing more and more since they’d turned thirteen. He was sure that one of these days his year mates would figure out that he didn’t like any of the girls. 

At first when everyone started talking about the girls they dreamt about, Raoul figured he was just behind. He spent a month or so thinking that any day now, his interest in girls would show up. As far as he knew, he wasn’t interested in anyone. Not that way. Then, as months and years passed, he was forced to accept that he certainly wasn’t interested in girls they way the other pages were. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in anyone.

He didn’t know what would happen if everyone found out that he felt the same way about boys that they felt about girls. He could only assume the worst. He knew what people said about those types of men, he’d heard it all before. They were always the butt of jokes among the boys at Goldenlake, and the insult that you were attracted to men was the worst insult a boy could be tarred with. If the insults were bad, the reality was worse, and Raoul was always worried his friends would find out his secret. 

Thankfully, he was free from the worries during training. He excelled on the practice courts, mind and body working together, and he liked pushing himself to be even stronger. And his classes were so hard, he didn’t have much time to worry then either. It was only in moments like this, when everyone else was talking easily about who they liked that he started to get nervous.

Nervous, and if he was being honest, a little sad. For all he was scared that someone would find out his secret, a very small part of him wished he could talk about what he was feeling the way his friends could talk about the girls they had crushes on.

“Did anyone else notice Raoul has finally fallen for a lady?” Jon said, leaning in.

Raoul felt himself redden. “I have not!” Why did he say that? Why didn’t he just go along with it? That would have helped his deception.

“Oh Raoul, we all saw you drop the finger bowls at Lady Magelene’s table,” Gary said.

Raoul blushed even harder. He had been nervous at that table, but not because of Lady Magelene. There was another young man at the table, maybe a few years older than Raoul, who looked at him with searching, dark eyes, and made Raoul so flustered he dropped his tray. It was only as he was walking back with a stained tunic and a new tray that he realized this was probably what a crush was supposed to feel like. And immediately after he thought that, he squashed it down, hoping no one noticed his blunder and could connect it to the young man.

But his blunder had been noticed. All Raoul could be thankful for now was that his friends seemed to believe it was for a woman.

Trying to sound casual, he forced a laugh. “You caught me! I wasn’t even paying attention, but her eyes just…” He hoped when he trailed off it sounded like he was lovesick, and not like he had nothing more to say, which was actually why he stopped talking.

All the boys laughed. “And she’s unattached,” Alex said. “We’ll have to get you two together!”

“What about the young man she was with?” Raoul tried not to sound too interested, slowing his voice and working to sound disappointed that he thought Lady Magalene was single.”

“That’s her brother Charles,” Jon said. “There’s hope for the two of you!”

Raoul knew anymore questions about Charles would probably look suspicious, so he made himself look relieved and felt actually relieved when the boys moved on to something else. He felt a familiar mixture of nervous and cheated. Nervous that he’d been so close to being exposed. What if there hadn’t been a woman the table? What would his friends have thought if he’d been so nervous or even obviously attracted to a table full of men? He knew he’d have to be more careful, even more careful than he already was. And that exhausted him.

But he also felt like he was missing out on something, like his friends didn’t really know him. There were so many lies he felt like he was telling, lies his friends didn’t have to tell. It made him feel lonely, even though he was surrounded by his friends.

Francis caught him by the elbow before the boys went off to bed. He waited until the other boys walked out of earshot and asked, “Are you alright?”

Raoul put on a bright smile. “Of course! Just tired.”

Francis continued to surprise Raoul. Sometimes when he didn’t think anyone was paying attention, Francis would make a comment that showed Raoul that Francis saw more than he realized. 

“As long as you’re sure. I’m sorry if the others embarrassed you.”

Raoul was touched Francis had noticed, and resolved to do stick up for his friend a little more when Jon and the others gave him a hard time.

“It was a little embarrassing, but I guess that’s what happens. Thanks for noticing Francis,” Raoul said, cuffing Francis on the shoulder.

Francis nodded. “You’ve seemed a little distant lately is all. If something is wrong, you can tell us. We’re your friends.”

Raoul bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “I know,” his voice wavered a little. “Nothing…nothing’s wrong.” He could tell Francis didn’t believe him, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Ok. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Raoul.”

Raoul nodded. “Thanks again Francis.”

He shut the door to his room and sighed, fighting off the urge to cry and feeling alone again. He wondered if Francis would understand, if Raoul were to tell him what he was feeling. Or would that be a bridge too far? Would he ever be able to tell anyone? It was too much to think about tonight, so he crawled into bed. 

And for a brief moment before he fell asleep, he though again how nice Charles’s eyes were, and hoped he would see him again.


	9. Better Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raoul's too obvious about his crush, and someone notices and gives him a stern warning.
> 
> \--
> 
> written for fiefgoldenlake prompt 'first crush' and inspired by the Springsteen song 'You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch)"

Normally, Raoul hated the endless banquets they had to serve at. Not because he hated banquets, but because having to remember all the etiquette and serve people many courses was exhausting after a whole day of training.

That changed after he saw Charles. He was jumpy the next day, wondering if he would see Charles at that night’s banquet. He wanted to see him again, even though he wasn’t sure what he would do, if he would even do anything.

All his hopes and fears were confirmed when he first entered the banquet to serve and immediately saw Charles and Magalene at a table with an older man Raoul assumed was their father. He wasn’t serving their table tonight, which meant he didn’t drop anything right away. While the four people at his table were selecting the beginning course, he snuck a glance at Charles, who tonight was wearing a well-fitting tunic that showed off strong arms. Raoul blushed a little just thinking about it.

“Raoul,” Alex’s voice was light and teasing. “Your new lover is here.” The boys were picking up plates for the next course and Raoul stopped himself from tensing up.

“Shut up Alex,” he grumbled. Part of having crushes was pretending you didn’t actually like the person. Raoul knew how to play along.

“Oh, we all saw you blushing! Who knew our tough Raoul could blush?” Alex laughed.

“You know she’s single,” Jon said. “And not much older than us! I’m sure her father would love to meet you.”

“Jon if you weren’t the heir to the throne I’d threaten you with death.” The last thing Raoul needed was to come face to face with Charles, or Mithros forbid, his father.

“Move, move!” Master Oakbridge started shooing the boys out. “You all can swoon over ladies after the banquet!”

Raoul scurried out with the second course. When he turned around to return to the kitchen, he saw Gary presenting the dish of meat to Magalene. Gary’s mouth was moving, and his head jerked over towards Raoul.

That was that. He was going to have to kill Gary. Magalene looked over at Raoul and smiled a little. When she turned, Charles did too, and their eyes met again. Raoul felt his face go absolutely scarlet. Gary gave Raoul and evil grin and trotted back to the kitchen. Raoul stood there, a little dumbfounded, until Francis jostled him.

“You really are lovesick aren’t you?” Francis said as the boys went back.

“I guess,” Raoul mumbled.

“She’s pretty, I see why you like her.” Raoul just nodded, embarrassed and enraged. Even if he had liked Magalene as all his friends thought he did, he would have been embarrassed. He’d never do something like that to Gary, blab about his crushes to the object of his affections.

Raoul rarely lost his temper, but when he saw Gary he couldn’t help himself. He lunged at Gary, dropping his tray and pushing Gary. Hard.

“What were you thinking?! How would you like it if I told Lady Annel how you felt about her? You can’t just go around blabbing my business to everyone!” He knew he was yelling, but all the anger and stress that he’d been bottling up and come spilling out of him, and he wanted someone to pay.

All the mirth had gone out of Gary’s eyes, and he was giving Raoul the empty, calculating stare that was so typical of Gary.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would upset you this much,” Gary said slowly. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Well I don’t!”

“I see that,” Gary was still annoyingly mild-mannered. “Do you want me to tell her I was joking?”

“She won’t believe that, we all saw Raoul turn the same color as his uniform!” Jon said, still smiling. 

“Shut up! All of you, just shut up and leave me alone!” Raoul yanked the dish out of a younger page’s hand and stalked out to his table. If the people he was serving noticed the flush in his cheeks, they didn’t say anything.

—

As he was heading back from serving dessert, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned quickly, still angry at his friends, and came face to face with Charles.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Charles said. His voice was light and quiet, pulling Raoul in.

“No it’s…it’s fine…what are you…can I help you sir?” Raoul stammered over his words, fiddling with the tray.

“Your friend came over to our table earlier to say you fancy my sister,” Charles said. 

_I fancy you_ was the thought that popped into his mind and Raoul squashed it down. “I’m sorry about that,” was what came out of Raoul’s mouth.

“No it’s—well I’m sorry about this, but she didn’t want you to get your hopes up. But she’s actually interested in someone else.”

Relief flooded Raoul. The only thing worse than Gary spilling the beans would have been Magalene reciprocating interest, getting Raoul into a situation he couldn’t get out of.

He tried to look disappointed. “Oh. Well, that happens.”

Charles nodded. “Sorry again. But if your friend, the small one, if he’d ever like to ask Magalene on a walk, I’m sure she’d say yes.”

“The small one? You mean Francis?” Raoul asked.

“Yes, him. You know, if he wants.”

Raoul just nodded again.

“Thanks for understanding,” Charles said, and clapped Raoul on the shoulder. Raoul had to stop himself from shivering, but his heart started beating a mile a minute. He was sure Charles could hear it, so he bowed and murmured a quick goodbye and left as soon as he could.

He hurried through the clean-up, and begged off when Gary tried again to apologize. Jon, Alex and Francis tiptoed around him, not saying much, and Raoul left for his bedchamber as soon as he could.

“Page!” Raoul heard the barking voice from down the hall. He stopped in his tracks and looked around, hoping this angry voice was talking to any other page. No luck. It was just him in the hallway.

He turned. “Yes sir?” A middle aged man stood before him, looking a little worse for wear. Raoul could smell some mead on his breath and backed up just a little.

“A piece of advice, from me to you,” the man’s words were slurred a little, but his eyes were clear and cold. “Look at the pretty boys all you want, but make sure not to go any farther than that.”

Raoul felt his heart stop. “I—I don’t know what you mean sir.”

“Yes you do. You don’t have to admit it, but I know. It’s a lonely life, we learn to spot each other.”

Raoul felt sweat on his palms, his forehead. He wanted to run but he was rooted to the spot. The terror he felt at being spotted was abated a bit by the new knowledge that he wasn’t alone. There were others like him in the palace. And they weren’t the monstrous freaks people made them out to be. 

He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say, so he closed it again.

“I’m only telling you this because someone once told me,” the man said. “No one notices it but us now, but the older you get, the more obvious your unnatural leanings will become. It would benefit you to start changing your behavior now.”

Raoul nodded dumbly. “Does it ever—”

“Go away? No. But you get better at hiding it.” A woman called down the hallway and the man turned. “That’s my wife. You’ll probably have one too one day. It does help a little.” With that the man turned and was gone, leaving Raoul feeling more alone than ever before.

—

The man Raoul met in the hallway all those years ago was right about one thing. He’d learned to spot others like him. It had proved to be a life-saving skill, helping him meet others like him as friends and lovers. Sometimes, though, it broke his heart to see men or women in relationships they clearly didn’t want to be in, with the identical trapped, blank look in their eyes.

Raoul tried to take the pages out at least once a year with the Own, give them actual training in being a knight. Wyldon was interested in improving the page’s actual combat skills, and Raoul certainly enjoyed teaching.

There had been a hurrok sighting to the North, only an hour or so ride from the palace, so a squad of Third Company took the pages out to deal with it. On the ride up, Raoul had been too focused to notice the pages, giving them basic tasks and answering the braver ones questions. It had turned out there was a hurrok nesting near a small village, but they were able to drive it out. Free from worry, Raoul took the ride down to survey the pages, comparing notes with Wyldon about the strongest minds, most able fighters. 

He wasn’t looking for it, but that didn’t stop him from noticing a slight blush creep onto a page’s face when his friend touched his arm. Raoul recognized the flustered response from the first boy, the playing it off, the put-on toughness that showed up right after. 

“Lord Wyldon, do you mind if one or two boys came back to the Own stables to help us clean the mud out of all our tack?” It had been an extraordinarily muddy day and Raoul knew the standard bearers would appreciate the extra hands.

“Of course, anyone you have in mind?”

“Oh I don’t know, will it trouble you to lose those three?” Raoul gestured to a cluster that included the blushing page.

“Not at all. Cafferey! Linden! Teresian!” Lord Wyldon barked. The three turned in surprise. “Over here, you’re helping the Knight Commander with some cleaning.”

The boys looked incredibly proud as they stood before Wyldon and Raoul. Raoul had to hide a smile as they shot prideful glances back at their friends. 

“Which of you is which?” he asked the boys.

“Engen of Rich Cafferey, my Lord,” said the tallest boy, the one who had inspired such nerves in his friend.

“Gerhart of Teresian,” said the other.

“Mayce of Linden,” the last said. That was the one Raoul wanted to talk to. Maybe.

“Alright, Engen, go with Qasim and help him with his squad, Gerhart, you’re with Flyn and Mayce, come with me,” Raoul said.

The boys trotted off. Flyn gruffly set Gerhart to a couple of horses, and Qasim allowed himself one eye roll at Raoul before showing Engen to his horses. Raoul didn’t take it seriously. Qasim didn’t always love working with the pages, but Raoul knew Qasim had noticed Mayce’s worry too, and he was sure Qasim wasn’t actually mad.

Mayce and Raoul worked in silence for awhile, but for Raoul pointing out tools, giving suggestions. As the boy got more comfortable, and some of the shine wore off, Raoul cleared his throat.

“How are you finding training?”

Mayce jumped a bit. “F—fine my Lord.”

“Good. Keeping up in your classes?”

“Yes my Lord. Except…”

Raoul could tell Mayce had realized it wouldn’t be good a idea to mention a deficiency to the Knight Commander, so he chimed in. “Etiquette? That was always my worst class. Or mathematics?”

Mayce smiled. “Mathematics my Lord.”

“Ah mathematics. The hardest class that’s also vital. You will improve with practice.”

Mayce nodded. “And I have friends who will help me.”

“That’s wonderful,” Raoul knew this was where he was supposed to bring up what he wanted to actually talk to Mayce about. Never got easier.

“And you’re…you’re getting along with friends then?” Idiot.

“Yes.” There was a hint of question in Mayce’s voice, which was understandable given Raoul’s ridiculous question.

“Well that’s good. Engen seems like he’s a great friend of yours.” Raoul spotted the telltale blush on Mayce’s cheeks, imagined the terror he probably felt at being spotted.

“I remember when I felt the same about one of my friends.”

“M—my Lord?”

“Of course, maybe I’m wrong. About you, I mean. What I mean is…no what I want to tell you is, however you feel or whatever you think about your friends, whatever you may or may not feel about ladies at court, it’s all ok. You don’t need to change anything about yourself. And it’s not unnatural or bad,” Raoul could feel himself rambling so he stopped.

“Wa—was I obvious?” Mayce’s small voice made Raoul want to hug him, but he didn’t. Wouldn’t be proper.

“Not to anyone else. Someone told me once that it can be a lonely life, but we get better at spotting each other.”

“We?” 

“We.”

Mayce nodded. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“Of course. And if you ever need to talk, you’re free to find me. Or if you don’t want to talk to me, I can find many others in the castle who are happy to reassure young people they’re not sick or wrong for their feelings.”

“Many?!” Mayce squeaked.

“You’d be surprised. We’re only invisible if you’re not looking.”


	10. Lonely Ribbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coram didn't write to Rispah while he was traveling and she's not very happy about it.
> 
> \--
> 
> written for fief goldenlake prompt "Letters" and based on the Bruce Springsteen song "I Wanna Marry You."

“Been a long time Rispah.”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” the pretty flower seller crossed her arms, indifferent to the man at her door.

“I’ve missed you?”

“A little too late Coram.”

The door shut in his face. He could have come up with hundreds of excuses. He was in the Southern Desert! Then a trip to the Roof of the World! Picking up refugees, one of whom was now the queen! He had to stop attempted regicide!

But those were all excuses and he knew it. He should have written more, tried to get in contact with Rispah, even answered one of her letters. She’d sent many and he’d carried them hither and yon across the realm but he couldn’t bring himself to send back an answer. Her writing was so beautiful, her feelings so intense, Coram was scared. Not because he didn’t feel the same way, but that he didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know if he could trust himself to share it.

He sighed. In the past, he would’ve walked away. Coram Smythesson didn’t stay where he wasn’t wanted. But this was different, a part of him said. He had done wrong to Rispah, treated her badly. This was an apology.

So he slipped the poorly wrapped package under her door. It wasn’t much, just ribbons he’d seen on their travels and thought would look nice in her red hair. Had he a quill, he would have written something on the package, a poor approximation at an apology. Instead he left.

—

Coram had to acknowledge how pathetic it was, but he couldn’t stop himself. Each night that week he found himself at the Dancing Dove, hoping to see Rispah. Hoping to tell her how sorry he was, how much he did care for her. To tell her that if she didn’t want to see him anymore, that was alright, but he wanted to make amends before she left his life forever. But she didn’t come by that first week. Or the next. It was five weeks, over a month of waiting, before a flash of red hair caught his eye.

“I heard you’ve been here every night,” Rispah said.

“I’m sorry,” Coram said. “For not writing, for taking you for granted, for not telling you how much you mean to me.”

Rispah didn’t respond.

“I just wanted to say that. I won’t come back here, not if you don’t want me to.”

Rispah heaved a great sigh, and sat next to him. It was then Coram noticed the flash of blue brocade in her hair. One of the ribbons he’d slipped under her door.

“Why didn’t you write me?”

“Your letters were so beautiful,” Coram said. “I knew I couldn’t match them. I kept meaning to write but every time I sat down, I didn’t have any words.”

“What about now?”

“Now?”

“What do you want to tell me?” Rispah said.

“I was a fool to ever let you go. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and you make me want to be a better man. I don’t want to live my life without you anymore and I want to marry you.” The last part just slipped out, but once Coram said it, he felt at peace. It was the big truth he’d been dancing around, the thing he’d been so afraid to say, the thing that had been standing between him and all those letters he should have written.

Rispah chuckled. “About time! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?”

“How long—Rispah you ignored me for weeks!”

“I mean in general Coram, don’t ruin the moment. I’ll overlook that you don’t have a ring,” Rispah smiled.

“Well, there is this,” Coram leaned over and gently untied the ribbon. “A placeholder?”

Rispah blushed as Coram tied the ribbon around her wrist. “For now,” she said, but she wore the ribbon every day until the wedding, long after Coram found a ring, and when it finally became too frayed, she tucked it in a safe place to remind herself that sometimes her husband was better with actions than he was with words.


	11. Don't Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon faces the possibility of arranged marriages for his children.
> 
> \--
> 
> based on the Bruce Springsteen song The River and the fiefgoldenlake prompt Disappointment

Jon had wondered if he would be as enamored with his subsequent children as he was with Roald. He remembered when Roald was born, all he’d wanted to do was stare at his newborn son, watching him sleep, watching his wide eyes take in the entire world, imagining what his son was processing and learning. He’d figured that a second child would be less exciting, that he would spend every moment enraptured by his new daughter.

Of course, he was wrong. Fulfilling other obligations became so much more challenging when all he wanted to do was watch Kalasin, hold her while she was sleeping, comfort her when she cried, talk to her softly and watch her grow and learn.

“I can’t wait to watch her grow into a ruler and a queen,” Thayet whispered.

Jon swallowed. Of course he wished his children could all stay in Tortall, ruling the kingdom they grew up in. He wanted them all to fall in love before marriage, the way he had fallen in love with Thayet. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Logically, practically, he knew his children would more likely than not end up in arranged marriages. And an arranged marriage for his new daughter would probably take her away from Tortall. But he didn’t bring it up. He didn’t want to ruin the glow in Thayet’s eyes as they gazed down at their sleeping daughter.

He hadn’t had to think about this with Roald. The oldest son would become the King. That was how it had always been done. There was certainly a possibility that Roald would have an arranged marriage, but it wasn’t a guarantee. A second child? A daughter? Things were different.

Was it fair, to expect his children to fulfill their responsibilities to the kingdom, to marry people in order to create alliances, to move far from their home? Of course it wasn’t fair. Jon knew it wasn’t fair. It certainly wasn’t fair that children starved in the streets while his children had three full meals a day. The Gods scales had to be balanced. There were trade-offs in life, and these types of responsibilities were what his children had to shoulder to make up for the incredibly fortuitous life they’d been born into.

He’d had that conversation with Thayet before they’d started having children. But talking about it in the abstract felt so much easier than facing the reality of sending their children off to unknown people and unknown lands. He knew he was borrowing trouble, that he wouldn’t have to face these issues until his children were much older. But the thought of ruining Thayet’s vision for her children was keeping him up at night.

“What’s going on?” Thayet asked one night. She was feeding Kalasin in the study while Jon looked over farming reports. The realm was starting to recover from the famine, but he was still worried about the northern fiefs.

“Going on? Nothing,” he said.

“You’re fiddling with your earlobe. You only do that when you’re nervous. Are the reports that bad?”

Jon sighed. He should have known Thayet would realize his anxiety eventually. “No, the fiefs are fine. It’s something that’s been troubling me about our children’s future.”

Thayet didn’t say anything. She’d learned that when there was something difficult to talk about, Jon needed a lot of empty space to say what he needed to say. As decisive as he was as a king, he had a hard time disappointing people he loved. Too often, he just wouldn’t say hard truths, preferring to adjust or fix things without ever talking about them. 

“They can’t live here. You know they can’t live here forever,” he finally blurted out.

“I know darling,” Thayet said softly. “We discussed that when we had Roald. That’s part of what they were born into.”

“It’s just, you said you couldn’t wait to watch Kalasin grow into a ruler and a queen. You’re not going to be able to do that.”

Thayet sighed and put a sleeping Kalasin down. “I know. It’s hard to have dreams you know you won’t come true. I want to keep all my children close to me forever. I know that’s not possible, in my head. I can’t seem to make my heart understand that.”

“I hate that this hurts you,” Jon said quietly.

“I know it hurts you too,” she responded. “Our children aren’t going to do exactly what we want them to, in ways big and small. They’re going to delight and disappoint us. And sometimes the dreams we have for them won’t be possible. It’s part of raising children.”

Jon smiled weakly. “I guess you’re right. I certainly didn’t do everything my parents wanted me to.”

Thayet laughed. “And now our children will punish you by acting just as you did.”

He shuddered. “Perish the thought! But you’re right.”

“I know I am, love.” Just then Roald started crying. “I think it’s your turn to soothe our little dream,” Thayet said.

Jon smiled, for real this time. “Already disappointing me! Interrupting our conversation!” He stopped to kiss Thayet’s head. “Thank you for listening.”

“I’m glad I’m not alone in feeling this. We’ll get through it together,” Thayet said.

“We always do.”


End file.
